Hyrule In the Summertime
by swrdswllngwhr
Summary: Marth has always associated summertime with Hyrule, and more importantly, with Link.


Summer was sticky, popsicle hands and cool shards of grass pressing against your half-clothed body like a knife. Summer was wooden swings and pink lemonaide mustaches.

Summer was innocent. Summer was free.

Summer was also bees swarming, causing adrenaline rushes over the irrational fear of being stung. Summer meant hot, sticky sweat coating  
your entire body. Summer meant humidity, which meant frizzy, soaking wet bangs glued to your forehead all day.

Summer meant boredom. Summer meant no books.

But summer meant Hyrule for a week. And Hyrule meant Link.

As far back as my memory goes, I can see myself leaving Altea to indefinitely arrive in Hyrule, blue duffle bag in hand and permagrin pinned neatly to the lower half of my angeldust skin. "Be careful," the woman would tell me, and I had no choice but to listen. Looking back, I cannot recall anything about the woman. In my memory, she's always just a shadow attaching Link's address to my shirt and kissing the top of my mat of hair and saying, "seven days, Marth dear". Each time that I'd arrive at Link's, he'd always be in hiding and jump out, face contorted in some monstrous form. It never frightened me, but I'd shriek for his sake. We'd laugh and that void would cease to dwell within us.

Looking back, I don't even know how I came to know of Link's existence. He was just one of those chapters of my life I never questioned, but always chose to reread over the other ones.

Hyrule meant home.

As the wind swept over the endless fields, rustling each individual blade of grass against the next, the infamous feeling of belonging swept over me. Hyrule had calm falls and brutal winters, soaked springs and blistering summers. The terrain was a sponge that absorbed every drop of the skies annual discharge; an infinite marsh beneath by boots as I trudged through the mud, mutilating my brand new shoes that I wore on purpose, hoping that they may evoke a compliment or two from Link's rosebud lips, spoken in that gentle voice that made me soar. Each step closer I came towards Link's domain, the more dominant the feeling of change became. Now within the perimeter of vision, a shadow loomed on the porch. Russet boots tapped rhythmically against the aging wood as a soft, flutesque melody filled the air. There sat Link, no longer the bright-eyed boy that chased pigs in my memory, but rather a man. He had traded his pre-pubescent clothing foran evergreen tunic and cap that was nestled among his golden locks. Standing there, wielding a Hylian shield, I couldn't help but feel my heart drop down to my toes.

"Marth, I've missed you!" He erupted, eyes suddenly drowning in life and joy. He leapt up, a glowing, blue ball of light followed suit, as he  
embraced me.

"You, too," I returned coyly, suddenly feeling intimidated.

"This is Navi, my fairy," Link beams, adjusting his chin to point in the direction of the sapphire illumination hovering above his head. I force a faint smile towards the fairy and nod slowly, though not really understanding the significant of her presence. I wondered if the girlfriend's that the men in Altea kept locked against their hips were the equivalence of fairies in Hyrule.

He led me inside and told me to make myself at home. I removed what little necessities I had brought with me to Hyrule. Clothes were never an issue, because Link and I were always similar in size and always resorted to sharing clothes when my stash of clean shirts ran dry. But now I had grown so much taller and he had sprouted muscles. Knowing I'd be stuck in the same outfit for the next seven days was enough to make my skin crawl.

"If you're all settled, I can show you around town," he tells me, putting his hand on my shoulder and squeezing the minute ounce of hope that continued to pump through my veins. The diminutive hope that this would be a dream week – us lying in bed and feeding each other grapes and telling stories and drawing pictures of each other. Until the blazing, summer sun fell and rose. Fall, happiness, rise… fall, happiness, rise. Repeat as desired, or until it's time to return to Altea.

Or maybe, I'd never have to go back. Link would realize we were the two corresponding shapes of a puzzle and I could stay. Forever 'till us part, you know? Or maybe, this was the illogical part of me talking, because Link had Navi and I don't shine as bright as that.

Past the gates and the fields, the dandelions we spend hours wishing on and the wishes that never come true, he leads me into a small town, decorated with galaxies of tents and people of all colors and sizes. As he walks in, heads turn and frowns are morphed into smiles. "Hero," they cry, eyes locked on Link with faces of admiration. Some make a madash for him and as the crowd augments in size, he just stands there with a smile on his face and his arms spread wide to give optimism to his adorning fans.

And perhaps it's selfish, perhaps it's sick, but I couldn't help but feel that Link was _mine_. He had been my hero for as long as I can remember, but now, he was suddenly a … _megahero_. It was as if overnight he had grown stronger, gotten a life partner and also became some sort of God amongst the Hylians. Before all of this, he was my hero. Through thick and thin, _my hero._ I was never the best at sharing what was rightfully mine, and even now that I've grown and matured, Link will be no exception.

"L-Link… Link, I think we should head back. Now."

He turns around and shoots me the same smile he's been handing out to everyone today and says, "hold on, Marth. Or better yet, you can head back and I'll catch up with you later."

But he doesn't come home that night. Or the night after that, or after that or that night that followed, either.

Three days and four nights I sit alone, in the dark most times, fearing the worst. Mind conjuring up every possibility in existence as to why he never came home. Ranging from the ever popular "he was murdered" right down to "I made him angry and he doesn't want to see my disgusting face anymore". I was caught in a whirlpool overflowing with rational and irrational possibilities and caught dead-center between the two polar extremes.

He appears late on the third night as a shadow breathing too heavily.

"Nice of you to show, _hero_."

He sits beside me on the splintering log and suggests we go to talk about it somewhere else. By instinct, I follow. I've been following him since day one, and I knew no better. He grasps my hand and leads me to the field we crossed by earlier. It hasn't changed since we were five, and by that point I was desperately wishing that we were just two open clearings; eternally beautiful, eternally the same.

He plops down into the soggy earth and with his new-found strength, drags me down, too.

"A lot has changed since we were last together, Marth," he begins quietely. "I don't like it, either. If I had knew that my destiny was to become the hero of time, I would've run off to Altea with you long ago. If I had foreseen a life of saving princesses and battling… well… whatever Ganondorf is, I would've spent my time preventing it instead of unknowingly welcoming it with open arms."

I was silent. Unable to formulate thoughts into words, I sat there, stupefied.

"Everyone thinks I'm something wonderful, but I'm not. This was all handed to me when I never wanted it. Everyone just thanks me and refers to me as 'hero' now. They cheer and laugh and clap and expect me to marry princess Zelda. I don't want that. I want it to just be my warrior prince and me forever."

"I-I… it's not you being the hero that bothers me, I'm used to you being a hero. It's second nature to me. It's just… I really don't want to share. But I will, because I know I can't keep you all to myself. Though, I would love it. What I really want is to fly off with you where we can never grow up and never change. But it seems as if you've already got a Tinkerbell, Peter."

He rolls those cerulean eyes and scoffs, "you're the only Tinkerbell I want. Not to like… emasculate you or anything."

"No, no. It sounds like a plan, Peter Pan."

Pulling the flaxen haired hero close to my chest and pressing my lips against his, we lay heart-to-heart in the fresh, Hyrule grass under the Hyrule stars in the Hryule summertime.


End file.
